


beneath these sheets

by BansheeLydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Body Swap AU, F/F, Ficlet, Fluff, Magic, Magical Accidents, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:11:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Her gaze catches her reflection in the mirror and she stares; vibrant blue eyes slowly widen, taking in the honey hair, fangs and claws.  </p>
<p>“You have got to be kidding me.”'</p>
            </blockquote>





	beneath these sheets

When Lydia wakes, it’s with her claws and fangs out.

Which is pretty strange, considering she usually has neither. 

Her heart’s still pounding in her chest from her nightmare, body damp with sweat, and Lydia feels the sheets tear easily under her claws as she tries to calm down. When she feels like she can breathe properly again, slowly, she sits up, taking in her surroundings.

The room is a lot smaller than her own, with forest green walls and wooden floors, and minimal decoration. It’s a little messy, with clothes strewn over the back of the desk chair and shoes littering the floor, and outside the window, Lydia can see trees. 

Her gaze catches her reflection in the mirror and she stares; vibrant blue eyes slowly widen, taking in the honey hair, fangs and claws. 

“You have got to be kidding me.”

There’s a loud ringing from the nightstand and when she looks over, she sees Malia’s phone, screen lit up. The ID flashes with her own name and she knows who’s calling. Swallowing, she snatches it up, pressing it to her ear.

“What did you do?” 

A weird feeling goes through her. It’s so odd, hearing her own voice like that, talking to...herself. 

“I...” it’s even weirder to speak and hear _Malia_ ’s voice. “I didn’t _do_ anything. What the hell is going on?”

There’s a long moment of silence. Finally, she – _Malia_ – huffs.

“Deaton?”

Lydia gazes at her reflection grimly. “Deaton.” 

“I’ll be there in ten.”

 

 

 

If hearing her voice saying someone else’s words was weird enough, it’s just plain creepy to see herself, with someone else’s eyes. She stares into her own hazel eyes, takes in the face and body she’s seen a million times in the mirror, and feels a shiver go through her. This just feels so _wrong_.

“You paint your toenails?”

Lydia stares. “That’s what you’ve got to say about this?”

Malia flexes her toes in the sandals she’s put on. She’s thrown on the denim dress Lydia got last week, hasn’t bothered with brushing out red curls, and Lydia’s itching to fix it. 

“It’s just weird.”

“That’s one word for it,” Lydia mutters, heading back to Malia’s bedroom. 

It feels weird, moving in this body; it doesn’t sway the way she’s used to and she’s _taller_ , and it’s odd, walking on hardened, flat feet. She feels lean and strong and she knows her arms are swinging wrong and her gait is off, but she can’t get the hang of it. It’s like driving an automatic after learning to drive in a manual. 

The strangest thing is knowing she’s a _werecoyote_. She doesn’t _feel_ like one, her mind is her own, but she can feel that power and strength in her body, can feel that tenuous hold on control to stop the claws coming free. It’s a sensation she can’t even begin to describe and she doesn’t like it.

“So you didn’t do anything?” 

Lydia frowns. She folds her arms, cocking one hip, and she knows it looks ridiculous because it _feels_ ridiculous, pursing lips that aren’t her own. “Again, _no_. I just woke up from a nightmare. With claws. I ruined your sheets, by the way. Sorry.”

She can’t help but feel unnerved with the way Malia’s standing; seeing her own body so straight and taut, stance wide and arms folded, expression fierce...it’s hot in a way that just confuses her more than anything.

“I’ve got spare sheets,” Malia replies. “I rip them a lot. Loss of control.”

“From nightmares?”

“No, usually from sex.”

Lydia blinks. She wonders, briefly, who Malia’s had sex with; she knows it isn’t Stiles, because she’d once asked and the werecoyote had told her she was usually swayed more by women. Then, she can’t help but think of _Malia_ and _sex_ , and that’s definitely a strange feeling, arousal in a body that isn’t her own.

“I had a nightmare too,” Malia says, sitting down on the bed. She tucks red hair behind her ears. “And then I woke up like this.”

“I’ve called Scott. He said he’ll meet us at the animal clinic. Deaton can fix this.” She hopes he can, anyway. 

“I can’t...hear or _smell_ like I’m used to. I can’t sense your heartbeat.” Malia draws her knees up, frowning. “I’m not used to this. I’m not used to feeling weak and vulnerable like this.”

“Gee, _thanks_.”

“I don’t mean it like that. I just...I’m used to knowing I’m strong. That I can fight back if I need to. I’m used to being able to scent things.”

Her face is open and young looking, vulnerable, the expression Lydia’s seen in her mirror a few times when she’s been alone and let her mask slip. A shiver passes through her at seeing it now and she knows it must be the same for Malia. 

“I’m not used to feeling strength like this,” she replies. “It’s like...constantly holding onto control.”

“That’s how I felt when I first turned back. It gets easier.”

Lydia breathes in and it’s overwhelming, Malia’s scent and the sound of her heartbeat. “Well,” she says, turning to the mirror. “I guess there are worse bodies to have swapped with.”

She catches the grin Malia gives. “Thanks.” 

 

 

 

“Can you find out what caused this?” 

If Lydia’s tone is impatient, she can’t help it. It’s annoying her, the way Scott is just staring between them, eyes wide. 

“Er, actually,” Stiles lifts his hand, clearing his throat. He looks sheepish and Lydia’s eyes narrow. “No investigation needed.”

Malia crosses the room, gripping the front of his shirt. “ _What did you do_?”

“Wow. That is...a lot less scary without the fangs.” Stiles nudges at her hand and it falls away.

Lydia doesn’t miss the scowl on Malia’s face at how easily Stiles breaks free. Meanwhile, she’s just trying to keep from shifting, her emotions boiling and rousing the coyote she’s trying to keep dormant.

“Look, it was an accident, okay? Me and Derek had an argument and I just wanted him to know what it’s like being in my shoes. I didn’t even mean to make it a _spell_ or anything, but I guess...the spark kind of misfired.”

“ _Misfired_?” Lydia repeats, jumping slightly when it comes out as a growl. “Me and Malia switched bodies!”

“Yeah, well, my head was all over the place. I was thinking about you and Malia and wishing that I had what you two have. I guess the spark got confused and just latched onto the first thoughts it could.” Stiles sighs, pushing a hand through his hair. “I’m really sorry.”

Lydia blinks, mind catching on only one of his sentences. “Wait, what me and Malia have?”

“I mean...you guys are kind of obvious about your feelings for each other. I can never really tell if me and Derek are on the same level, and I -.”

“Hold on,” she cuts him off. “Malia doesn’t...”

She stops, looking at Malia. There’s a slight blush on her cheeks and when Lydia sniffs, she can smell the attraction. 

_Holy hell_. Malia _does_ have feelings for her. She’d never realized before, thought her feelings were one sided...but she can _smell_ it, can hear it in Malia’s heartbeat. 

Malia takes a deep breath, turning away from Stiles. “Can you fix it?” she asks Deaton, tone sharp.

Deaton smiles. “Of course.”

 

 

 

Two hours later, Lydia sighs as she gazes at her reflection in her compact mirror. She runs her fingers through her red hair, trying to smooth out the snarls. It’s good to be back in her own body, but she does wish Malia had brushed her hair. 

“Lydia.”

She looks at Malia in the reflection, then snaps the mirror shut, turning. “No offence, but I’m glad we’re swapped back.”

She smiles slightly. “Same.” There’s a quiet pause and Malia shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “About what Stiles said...”

“I don’t need your fancy hearing to know if you lie to me now. I could tell from your reaction in there. You like me.” 

Malia just nods. “You like me too.” She smiles at Lydia’s expression. “I know my own body, Lydia. Your eyes went blue when I mentioned sex earlier.”

She clears her throat. “Yes, well. Coffee?”

Malia steps forward and Lydia’s definitely glad to be back in her own body; she likes the height difference, how Malia’s body wraps around her as she pulls her close, kissing her. She likes the lean strength of Malia’s body against her own, the firm hands on her hips.

“Coffee,” Malia agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> kirasmalydia.tumblr.com - come say hello? :)


End file.
